Go-Go Boots
by DollyPop12
Summary: Honestly, he was right. It was imprudent and ridiculous for her to continue wearing stiletto boots so far into her pregnancy. "'I wanted to pitch them into a river, but this is Nevada, you know. The geographical location would make it a tad difficult.'"


"Don't say it," Marie groaned, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"Hm," Stein replied, simply adjusting her to better support her rather obvious baby bump. As he walked, footsteps seemingly booming, various students looked over and then immediately away when he looked back at them, glasses glinting.

"Please, just don't say it."

He sighed, itching for a cigarette. He'd been off the damn things for months, though the phantom cravings still hit, occasionally. A nicotine patch just wasn't the same, and after he went through 6 packs of nicotine gum in three days, he figured he should wean himself down that, too. Though, it certainly was the lesser of the evils. His little Ein Stein probably wouldn't appreciate the second hand smoke. He knows Marie certainly wouldn't

He felt her breathing on his neck, and he did his best not to jostle her when they got outside. He eyed the infinite number of steps warily. They weren't a problem, especially not when descending: it was having a heavily pregnant girlfriend with a heel-related injury, her go-go boot bouncing against his back since it was dangling from her fingers, both arms around his neck that complicated the process.

He had to take each step slowly, and he felt the broken heel scratch at his labcoat. If the damn thing got caught, he'd have to patch his jacket up, again. She felt the familiar stepping, slowly going downward and moved her face away from his neck, eye wide.

"Woah, woah! Where are we going?" she asked.

"Home."

"Franken, I'm fine!"

He stared at her.

"It's just- ugh, Franken. I still have a class!"

"Sid can cover you."

" _You_ still have a class."

"Sid can cover me, too."

"Sid can't be in two places at once, Franken. Just get me to Mira and I'll be fine. I just have to wrap it."

"Marie-"

"Franken."

He continued on as though she hadn't interrupted him, her gentle voice huffy. "Do you recall our conversation regarding heel-related fatalities?"

She winced. "Um…ye-"

"I hypothesis that you would have had one, were Spirit not there to break your fall."

"I said sorry about his wrist…"

He gave her an even look, and she saw how annoyed his eyes were from behind his spectacles. Marie felt her face flush.

"It was just one day…for old time's sake," she excused.

"You're in your third trimester."

"I just miss them, okay?"

He raised a brow.

Marie bristled. "Yes, well, if _somebody_ hadn't used me as an armrest, I wouldn't have wanted to."

His gaze didn't let up.

"Okay, so I didn't want to feel so short around all you ridiculous giraffe-men. Look, it's just a sprained ankle. You could even put me down and I'll be able to walk back to my class."

"I carry you up these stairs every morning," he told her, silver eyebrow raised. Marie was pouting, opening her mouth for a rebuttal before he continued. "Chair and all."

It was true. She'd taken to refusing to walk, especially when she had so many people to help her and her feet were just murder sometimes, and so, most mornings, she simply plopped on Stein's chair and he dragged her with him to class, only stopping to scoop the entire mass up in his arms to climb up all 1,000 steps.

His arms were like wood, recently. The man should thank her, really. He'd never looked better.

"Well, I could walk. If I wanted."

"You've sprained your ankle."

She ignored him. "And speaking of the chair, where is it?"

"Teacher's lounge," he informed, and she winced when her broken heal caught some of the stitches on his labcoat, leaving a small tear, no doubt. He blinked at her, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs.

"Why? Let's go get it," she asked, still intent on showing that she was fine. "Franken, you can put me down…I'm not made of glass." A fact he was well aware of. No woman who dated him could ever be anything but resilient. Marie was made of steel and electric wire: a hammer, through and through.

"True," he conceded, and, to her utter astonishment, gently set her down so she was seated on the stairs, her stomach protruding. He took extra care in situating her, and waited, stooped uncomfortably, for her to let go of her hold on his neck.

Without missing a beat, the man knelt down, getting down on one knee and her eye widened. "F-F-Franken?" she asked, watching while he dug in his pocket. She held her breath, trained on the motions of his left hand so intently that she didn't even notice his right hand sneak around until she heard the zip of her only remaining go-go boot.

She gasped, both socks now exposed to the elements, while he swiftly grabbed the broken boot dangling limply in her hands and stepped away from her. Her mouth opened, and she blinked incredulously as he turned his back to her, eyes peering around until he found what he was looking for.

She should have expected it, honestly. But when he took two steps forward, his body rearing back before bending down, arms coming up, one right after the other to pitch both boots up and forward, she could only stare.

Somewhere, in the far distance, she was sure Spirit's window broke, the offending boot sailing into his bedroom, or living room. Where the other ended up, she wasn't certain.

"You…you just…" she started, still amazed and dazed when he casually turned back around, digging out a packet of gum and popping two pieces in his mouth. "You threw…my boots."

"Yes," he answered, shoving the pack back into his labcoat and stooping down once more, hooking a strong arm under her knees and the other around her back for support, standing up fluidly. Marie's arms went around his neck instinctively, her toes wiggling in her bumblebee themed socks.

"You…"

"He was smirking, simply staring at her. When she sighed and nodded, he crooked a grin.

"I wanted to pitch them into a river, but this is Nevada, you know. The geographical location would make it a tad difficult."

Marie buried her face in his shoulder, mimicking their position from earlier, though now her hands were free to stroke down his neck, thumb golden and soothing.

"I hate you."

"That isn't even remotely true."

She groaned, ignoring him and looking at her baby-belly.

"I hate your father," she told it.

"Don't lie to Ein Stein," he commanded.

"I will lie to him if I so please!"

He shook his head, gently shifting his hold on her so her face was pressed closer to his neck. She nuzzled, wiggling slightly.

"So, I guess you aren't going to put me down."

"You're not wearing shoes."

She didn't even have to look over to know he was smiling.

"Your dad's such a dork," she told her baby, whom Stein always affectionately referred to as "Ein Stein".

"Don't listen to your mother. She's hormonal from carrying you. It's almost as bad as when she used to be on her period." he replied, not missing a beat.

Marie made an offended noise, poking at his neck, hard, as revenge, but he only moved her once more, smirking.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. You love me."

Marie rolled her eyes.

Smartass. He always knew when he was right.

* * *

 **Somewhat related to _"Combat Stilettos"._ I'm such a sucker for these two.**


End file.
